


Ricochet

by brodylover



Category: Doctor Who, Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Crossover, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Leviathan - Freeform, Purgatory, Superwho, Trueform, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor, a hopeless romantic, goes to Purgatory in order to find Castiel and drag him back to the plain of the living, so he and Dean can finally talk through their feelings.<br/>Inspired by this post on Tumblr: http://bennylefitte.tumblr.com/post/48718635608/au-after-dean-escapes-purgatory-castiel-is-left<br/>I would really like to continue this. But, as always, I have no motivation unless you supply me with a bit of love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There were monsters there, tens of thousands and the Doctor ran amongst the trees, as alone as ever. But the monsters shied away from him, for as terrible as they were, they knew that this newcomer, with his young face and beating hearts, was more terrible than them all. 

They refrained from tearing him down, knowing that somehow, he would come back and none of them would be the better. Even when he stopped in a small valley, shouting out to an angel, trying to find it, they did nothing to stop him. 

He was desperate and he knew not where Castiel was. The monsters knew though and just like him, they would not touch him. It was for a different reason though. The Leviathans, the rulers of this plain, had already laid claim to the tattered angel. 

“Castiel!” the Doctor screamed to the air, for Castiel was nowhere near. 

Still, the angel cocked his head, fingers leaving his face after a poor attempt to wash it in the tarnished rivers of Purgatory. 

The Doctor knew that he wouldn’t come, not from hearing his voice alone. He had to give him an incentive, and leaving Purgatory wasn’t enough. Not when Castiel felt he deserved it, that he had to atone for his sins. 

“I can take you to him!” he bargained to the trees instead. “You can be together!” 

Dean. Dean would work. Dean had to work. He had left and the angel had stayed and the Doctor could tell how it had hurt Dean to lose Castiel. It was more hurt than losing a friend, or an ally. He saw in Dean himself. He saw his own loss, his home, his planet, his people.

Rose. 

There was no response. Maybe Castiel couldn’t hear him. 

“Come on then!” the Doctor tried not to sound desperate, “He’s waiting!”

There was a rustling in the branches and the Doctor thought that the monsters were finally upon him. He did not know of their fear. 

Behind him though were the crumpled remains of a man, bearded and dirty, hardly able to contain what it truly was. What it truly was was easy for the Doctor to see. Without human eyes he could see something closer to Castiel’s true form. Sure, he saw the ruined trench coat and the worn through shoes, the dark blue eyes, lidded with pain and having seen too much. They were like looking into his own. 

He also saw the angel though. He saw the three heads, rising and fighting amongst each other, fighting always for dominance. He saw the elongated limbs, the strong suit of armor, shattered and soldered back together over and over, new cracks rendering it more useless by the day. He saw the light, which would be blinding to most men. He saw the wings, which had been so beautiful when they’d first met. 

Now there were feathers missing, too many, and they were soiled and damaged and stained. They had once been silver, black at the tips, but now they were beige from dirt, red from blood, and black from the ooze of leviathan. 

He looked like he was about to fall apart. 

Castiel took a hesitant step forward. “How?”

And the Doctor smiled. For the How was easy.


	2. Coming Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angels and Timelords can't open the portal to leave Purgatory. That's for humans only.

The Doctor raced, hurrying through the trees and undergrowth, heading back to his beloved Tardis. Behind him though, keeping up poorly, stumbling over upturned roots and small shrubbery, the angel stumbled, too weak to run properly. Castiel had been running for so long, so hard, that now, it was hard to will his aching vessel further forward.  
The Tardis looked like it had been there for years, the paint peeling and ivy claiming it. She had only been there for a few hours and already Purgatory was clinging to it, trying to consume it.  
He stopped though in his chaotic race, looking up as a roar filled the air. Castiel stopped beside him, watching the sky grow black with formless ink. It plunged into the earth, liquid comets, pummeling the ground and creating dark craters. Within moments the ink was forming into shapes, almost human and they were hungry, so very hungry as they surrounded the Doctor and Castiel, that they would never be satisfied.  
"Leviathan." Castiel elucidated. They did not fear the Doctor. They were older than he and they doubted he could stand up to them.  
For a fleeting moment the Doctor doubted as well.  
But Castiel had his hand on the Doctor's shoulder, urging him to have strength and he shouted over the chaos of the Leviathan entrance. "Go." he commanded, and the Doctor did, not by choice but force.  
The Doctor was no longer standing at Castiel's side, ready to pull out some unfathomable trick that would coincidentally save them. He was alone, in the Tardis, safe from the Leviathan. It was impossible. No creature, other than the Doctor himself, could teleport something into the living machine. Castiel had done it though and now he was suffering for it.  
The Doctor raced to the console, turned the screen and watched as the angel, now useless, graceless, hurt, fight against the onslaught. He was still quick with his blade, still deftly maneuvering to slice off heads and defend himself, but he was tiring easily, each slice through his flesh an actual wound, something he could not heal. He had spent himself, the last of his Grace, getting the Doctor out of harms way.  
The Doctor was grateful that the screen had no sound, for Castiel was screaming as black tendrils pierced him, sliced through him, the Leviathans ooze and teeth tearing him down. He couldn't just stand there.  
He had to do something.  
He pushed buttons, pulled levers, trying not to watch as his companion was being torn apart on the screen. He believed there was but a hint of a smile on Castiel's face as the Tardis vanished, the sounds of it's still applied brake wooshing through Purgatory. The Leviathans paused in their dismantle of the angel, turned and watched the Tardis go, then spread out to understand what they had just witnessed.  
That was good, although Castiel was prone and bleeding, unable to do a thing to stop his pain, in the center of their search. The screeching of the Tardis brake came again and Castiel looked confused, as did all the vile wriggling things of Purgatory. The Tardis returned, pulsing and vibrating back into existence, around Castiel, making sure that he was safe within it's walls.  
He clutched at himself, his blood and essence spilling out onto the mechanical floor. The Tardis had once been a beautiful and living thing, but once the Ponds had dried up, the life had drained from it and it had become cold and unfeeling in appearance. The Doctor was upon him in a moment, too many hands. too many fingers, all searching for damage and finding it everywhere.  
Castiel did not complain, did not cry out. He was an angel and pain was nothing. It was a thing to be tolerated. If you allowed it to affect you it had won.  
"You should have left." Castiel growled, "You know how to leave Purgatory."  
"Yes, yes, I know!" The Doctor agreed, "But I couldn't leave you. You see, I came here for you!"  
"I don't matter." Castiel argued but he allowed the Doctor to help him to his feet, to lead him to one of the benches that faced the consol. He was much more comfortable in the new position, but his fingers, bloodied and broken, did not depart from the Doctor's dark peacoat immediately. "You should have gone."  
"No." and the Doctor smiled a sad weak smile, "I made a promise. I'm not the best at promises but I keep them when I can. I promised Dean I would bring you back to him and that is what I shall do." He paused as he knelt down before Castiel, reaching up with his long eager fingers, stroked the blood and pain away from the vessel's strong cheeks. "Not only that but I can't leave without you. I can't open the portal from this side."  
"What?" and Castiel squinted, tried to see inside of the Doctor, unable to understand.  
"Only a human can leave Purgatory." The Doctor explained.  
"But I am not a human."  
"No, you aren't."  
He could feel it, feel what the Doctor was doing. One hand on either cheek, blurring his vision. Everything was growing dark. Everything was fading. He reached out, clutching, trying, attempting to stop this. He was weak though and weaker every moment after.  
"No." he whimpered.  
"It will be alright." the Doctor consoled. "I'll have you out soon."  
"You don't understand!" Castiel had no more sensation. Everything he touched felt cold as if he were underwater or had no circulation. "He. He can't!"  
"I'm taking you home. I promise."  
"The pain!" it was Castiel's last attempt, the Doctor just a pinprick in his vision before he slipped away, no longer the mighty oppressor in the body he had stolen.  
Jimmy Novak woke with a scream, with blood pouring out of his orifices, fingers claws, scraping and digging into the Doctor's arms. The pain was excruciating and the damage held together by the last tendrils of Castiel's Grace tore open. He was a bleeding and bloody mess, a bottomless pit of agony, a howling thing in the Doctor's arms.  
He should have listened.


	3. Jimmy Jazz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Jimmy make a deal

Jimmy's broken and soiled frame crumpled upon itself as the Doctor abandoned it, rushing instead to a far corner of the console room, where there was a leftover sock, a small pack, and a used paperback book. He bit his tongue inspected it, the last few remnants of the latest in a long line of lost friends. But he dug through Rory's things, motivated by the human whimpering and screams behind him.   
Rory's pack had almost an entire nurses kit in it, which the Doctor rifled through until he found a thin syringe, filled with a low level painkiller. It would hardly dent the agonizing wall of suffering in Jimmy's body, but he took it and with a push of a button and the sonic buzz of green light, the potency of the painkiller rose, multiplying itself as much as possible before knocking Jimmy out entirely.   
He didn't even react as the Doctor pressed the needle into his arm, the sleeves of his clothing having been torn away to reveal the frayed veins.   
It didn't take long for Jimmy to quiet after that, to melt into the bench, liquid and weakness, the painkillers removing all need for wakefulness.   
"No." the Doctor ordered, shaking him lightly by the shoulder. "Jimmy, no. You have to stay awake now. Focus."   
It was only Jimmy that the Doctor could see. He knew that Castiel was in there, that he had just put him to sleep, but he could no longer see the tattered wings or the battling heads. All he could see was human.   
"My name is the Doctor." the Doctor explained, "Odd name I know, but not much about me isn't odd. Don't speak, I can see that you're trying and don't. You're in really bad shape and I'm sorry, I had to wake you up. Castiel is in there still, don't worry. But he's asleep. I need you."  
Jimmy opened his mouth and winced and shook at the pain of such a terrible motion. He could do nothing to respond and he couldn't understand. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know what was happening. He just wanted to sleep. He just wanted to vanish and be nothing. There was nothing for him left in this life, he had not daughter or wife, those pleasures torn from him when he surrendered his body to an angel's work. So now he wanted to fade away, let Castiel have his form and do with it as he willed. There was nothing for him now.   
"I'm going to take you home." the Doctor wiped some stray hairs from Jimmy's face, "I don't just mean Earth. I mean home. I mean Amelia and Claire and a normal boring human life. You'd like that right? Of course you would."  
Jimmy was staring, unblinking, and now he dared not sleep. Not for what this doctor was telling him. He could never go home. His presence would cause nothing but danger for those he loved above all.   
"No one will hurt you again. No one will hunt for you. I know how to hide you, how to make you and your family safe but you're going to have to do something for me first." Jimmy looked interested, his mind racing and hanging upon each urgent syllable, "And I'm sorry, I'm so very sorry but what I'm going to ask of you is going to be very hard in your condition."  
Jimmy blinked for nothing was so difficult that he wouldn't try for the sake of his family.   
"You're going to have to stay conscious." was all the Doctor required.   
Jimmy closed his eyes for, as the pain had not gone away, it had just been blanketed and he could still feel it, bubbling and burning, under the clouds of painkillers, he knew that this would be a difficult ordeal.


	4. Back in My Heart Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and his companion finally make it back to Dean.

The cliff was shallow but buzzing with an electricity that could be felt by all the lowly inhabitants of the dead realm. The Tardis shuddered at the sensation, unhappily parked nearby, so close it would be inside when the electric pulse became tangible.   
Jimmy was still clinging to the oddly dressed stranger, the Doctor in the wrong century, the wrong setting. The Doctor hushed him and soothed him through his agonies and aches, allowing him the safety of his shoulder to hide in and whimper in and sob into as he lifted the wounded human into his thin arms. Jimmy was numb but still tortured, unable to grasp how, even with the painkillers, this terrible sensation was so strong it rendered his voice to hide away in fear of screaming.   
With a snap the Tardis doors were open and the electric buzz outside immediately reacted to the weak body of the man. It cared not for the Doctor or his wondrous machine, it latched onto Jimmy. It throbbed in a blueish haze, creating a clouded doorway between two realms. Within the Tardis, the Doctor and the man were wrenched from the hazardous confines of Purgatory.   
\---  
It was night and Jimmy, done with his deed, finally fell asleep, still in the Doctor's arms. It was a rare occurrence when the Tardis sailed with doors wide open and not one that the Doctor would recommend, but this was different. Going through the portal, from one plain of existence to another, completely different dimensions, the Tardis just shifted. It was as if the Doctor had blinked, and he could not remember having done such a thing, and then they had moved.   
He set Jimmy down once more in the comfort of a bench, unable to tend to his wounds or his pain, and kissed him lightly on his forehead, willing the human to know that he had done well and his side of the deal was done.   
He then returned to his beloved console, pressing buttons and shifting levers, urging the Tardis into one last journey for this night. She ached and groaned, but did as she was bade and the Tardis vanished from the living forest, only to appear beside a motel, just to the side of the parking lot, where no one would notice her.   
At this time of night, there was naught but one light on in the entire building. The Doctor, leaving his companion to his rest, hurried towards it, rapping on the door. He heard cursing, quiet at first, from the inside, but soon the door was open and Dean, red in the face and rubbing sleep from his eyes, opened the door.   
"Took you long enough." he growled but then his voice turned soft as he woke up more fully. "Where is he? Did it work?"  
"You're drunk." the Doctor commented, smelling the aromas of cheap whiskey perfuming Dean's sweat shined skin.   
"I had to fall asleep somehow." Dean rubbed at an eye.   
The Doctor ignored him, pushing into the motel room. "You weren't supposed to fall asleep." he fought, "You were supposed to stay awake, stay sober, so that when I got here you could help me out if the need arose."  
The small room had atrocious wallpaper, beige with large golden flowers. The blankets on the bed, red with blue flowers, clashed terribly. There were two beds and one, Dean's, was a shuffling mess, blankets and sheets tossed aside in the throes of nightmares, three mostly empty bottles on the side table. The other was made at least, untouched in Dean's stay. Sam was with Amelia, thanks to the Doctor's orders, settling things with her and her husband, Don. As far as he knew, Dean had not heard but a word since he'd gone.   
"You couldn't expect me to stay up that long, Doc." Dean sounded like a child, unduly lectured by a stern adult. "You've been gone a week."  
The Doctor was terrible at being punctual, this he knew, but he doubted he had been gone that long. It had been but a few hours in Purgatory. Looking at the food wrappers littering the table and the bottle and the mess, he had no reason but to believe it. It seemed Dean had spent very little time outside of the motel room in his absence.   
"Where is he?" he asked again.  
"In the Tardis!" the Doctor brightened, "I'm going to need your help getting him inside."  
"What?" Dean asked as he chased after the Doctor, cursing at the cold of the night. He was nude beside a thin pair of boxers and socks, not enough to protect from the biting air. The Doctor was taking the steps two at a time though, he did not have time to halt him and get properly dressed. He was worried as well. There should be no reason for Castiel to require assistance in leaving the tardis.   
The Tardis allowed him entrance. He was sure that the machine hated him and that was fine, he didn't enjoy her much either. He had never gotten used to flying and the Tardis took the concept of flight and warped it into a new and terrifying thing. But that was nothing compared to the nightmare on the bench.   
Some of the torn limbs were hardly attached anymore and there was blood everywhere. The Doctor was working on the body, trying to hold it together, lift it up. He wasn't as strong as Dean was and he required the man's services. For a long moment he was unable to give it, just stare at the body of his friend, damaged and bleeding out.   
"Cas?" he asked, unsure, not wanting it to be.   
"I assume you have some medical knowledge?" the Doctor asked, bidding him over. Dean obeyed, wrapping his arm around bloody and hot shoulders, the other under soaking knees. "You and Sam go hunting enough. Surely you can tide him over for a while."  
"I can fix him up, sure." Dean's voice was hidden, a small fragment of his usual volume. He wished that this were a dream, yet another nightmare. Nothing could be so terrible as this, his friend, his soul mate in some aspects of the word, lying in a puddle of his own blood, not moving and hardly breathing. He lifted him up and held him tight. "What happened?"  
"Leviathans." the Doctor alluded, holding open the Tardis doors so Dean could carry his friend out. "They ambushed us. Castiel used the last of his Grace to get me into the Tardis. He's a good man, even with his mistakes."  
"I know." Dean exhaled, ruffling the hair before him with his foggy breath. "That's okay. He can touch my soul, recharge and heal himself up."  
"About that." The Doctor stopped to clarify and Dean hesitated, half way up the states. "That's not Castiel. He won't be able to use any angelic abilities."  
Dean stared at him, eyes wide and mouth open. "Then, who is this?"  
"Angels can't open the portal out of Purgatory, you know that. He's in there, Castiel, but he's asleep. I gave the controls back to Jimmy."  
Dean swallowed, hard.


End file.
